


The Butler Did It

by Jacinta



Category: Clue (1985), Psych
Genre: Dinner Party, Murder Mystery, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacinta/pseuds/Jacinta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First off: you don't NEED to have seen Clue for this to make sense, but I'd recommend watching it anway.<br/>Shawn goes undercover as Wadsworth with another friend from the SBPD to catch a blackmailer who has targeted Shawn with 'proof' that he isn't psychic. Can Shawn keep this 'proof' from being found while exposing the blackmailers network of informants and the various crimes of the blackmailed? Or will our mystery undercover person find proof to end Shawn's career? More importantly will anyone be left alive by the end of the night?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hill House off Route 41

**Author's Note:**

> DISCONTINUED DUE TO LACK OF INTREST AND OTHER PROJECTS. If you actually like this and want me to continue Kudos or better yet, comment, and I might consider starting it back up again.

Dark clouds were forming as the sun set, obscuring the pink tinted sky ominously. As night fell the clouds grew and became darker, wind picked up sending leaves flying around without mercy. A black car drove along a windy road, the sole occupant was a man in a tuxedo (though he had replaced the traditional bow-tie with the more common long tie and it’s easier Windsor knot) and a bowler hat. He’d been driving for several hours as the wind picked up and the sky darkened.

The man didn’t usually dress posh, having been given a tailored suit so he could go undercover as the butler this evening. He’d insisted on driving alone so that he could begin to absorb the mindset and quirks of the character he’d chosen for this evening, while he could be himself he felt a need to distance himself a little from the situation. In fact this man had insisted on having no contact with the other undercover cop who was going to be one of the dinner guests. Shawn Spencer wasn’t a cop and if he had to have secretive meetings or signals he wouldn’t be able to pull of the elaborate trap they’d planned.

Swallowing nervously Shawn drove up the winding driveway towards the mansion, faintly illuminated against the black sky. He knew that the local PD would be by in force later this evening but he, and the guests, were on their own until then. Parking the car the man inside stepped out with a paper bag clutched to his chest, looking at the two large dogs barking at him distastefully. He just knew these particular dogs would love nothing more than to ruin his suit, perhaps with slobber this time.

Fiddling with the umbrella, coat and bag in his arms the man walked towards the angrily barking dogs, throwing a bone of meat at them defensively. As they fought over that one he threw two more, pleased when the dogs ran back to their kennel, the alpha crawling inside and the other gnawing at his bone outside. The man tucked bag and umbrella under his arm and quickly tightened the dogs’ chains so they could not scare the guests that would arrive shortly.

Collecting his coat from where he had dropped it he smiled at the now peaceful dogs and began to walk forwards. Immediately he felt something squish underfoot and crinkling his nose the man checked to find that he had stepped in dog poo. With a last withering glare at the dogs who gazed steadily at him Shawn unlocked the door, wiping his foot on part of the stone chair by the door. Satisfied he stepped inside, put his umbrella in the stand and coat in the coat room before closing the big wooden door.  

Someone was listening to music and the chorus of ‘ _Shake, Rattle and Roll’_ drifted out into the hall as he briskly walked to the dining room, heartened to see the table set and candles lit, all ready for the guests. Next he walked to the library to find the French maid. ‘ _I’m like a one-eyed cat peepin’ in a sea-food store’_ a nearby stereo sang until he turned it off, startling the woman.

“Is everything ready?” He asked trying valiantly to keep his eyes on her face and off her very low cut dress.

“Oui monsieur.” She said demurely. He would have loved to assure her that after tonight everything would be better but he didn’t know how much involvement she had in the blackmailing.

“You have your um” he glanced down, momentarily forgetting what he was saying as the French Maid outfit stole his wits “instructions.” He forced his eyes back up and bedroom thoughts out of his mind. She nodded as he turned on his heal and left. Alone she sniffed, wondering if that smell had been present previously. Awkwardly she lifted one foot and peered at it around her skirt before repeating the action with her other foot. There was nothing there; perhaps it came from the kitchen when the butler had opened the door.

Unaware that there were still traces of dog poo on his shoe Shawn walked to the kitchen where the overweight Cook was sharpening a knife with a TV on in the background.

“Everything alright Mrs Hoe?” He asked and she faced him with a large knife held somewhat menacingly between them. For a second he panicked, afraid he’d given himself away somehow and she was actually the blackmailer. But there was no anger in her face, he forced himself to calm down, his character was unflappable and so he had to steel his nerves.

“Dinner will be ready at seven thirty.” She said without a trace of emotion as he glanced down at the knife. Thankfully the doorbell rang, giving him and excuse to flee the kitchen.


	2. Arrivals

The Colonel pulled his typical tan trenchcoat tighter around him as the wind whipped up around him and pulled the old fashioned chain doorbell and waited for a response, eyeing the growling dogs suspiciously.

“Good evening!” he greeted.

“Good evening.” The Colonel returned. “I don’t know if-“

“Yes indeed sir.” The man cut in “You are expected Colonel. May I take your coat?” He asked as the Colonel eased inside. “It is Colonel Mustard isn’t it?” He began to take off his coat.

“No that’s not my name, my name is C-” The other man held up his hand to stop the Colonel.

“Please sir. For tonight you may well feel obliged to my employer for the use of an alias.” He closed the door and took his coat. Colonel Mustard sniffed and checked his shoes as the man placed his coat in a coat room which he thought was a hugely outdated feature on a house that the owner really should find a better use for.

“And who are you sir?” He asked falling in step behind the butler a moment later.

“I’m Wadsworth sir, the butler.” The Colonel nodded and looked around, momentarily staring at the large, glass chandelier on the ceiling. He was starting to feel uncomfortable in the face of the grand elegance of this house, his old brown suit just not living up to the ostentatious displays of wealth. Inside the library a French maid in an appealingly short poufy skirt was pouring champagne into flutes.

“Yvette” the butler greeted the woman, stepping to the side of the door to let the Colonel through as though it were a habit. “Would you attend to Colonel Mustard and give him anything he requires. Within reason that is.” He added eyeing them distrustfully.

“Oh Wadsworth I was just” He began to say, turning and finding the door already shut behind him. His hand drifted down again wondering where the door handle was in the sea of books that had claimed even the back of the door. The bell rang again.

 

“Do come in Madam you are expected.” Shawn greeted the lady on the porch who was wearing long black coat with a hat with one of those fascinator-veils hanging over her face making her the very picture of class.

“Do you know who I am?” She asked.

“Only that you are to be known as Mrs White.” He replied curtiously as she stepped inside.

“Yes, it said so in the letter. But why?” She chuckled slightly as he closed the door and moved to take her coat. The white lining of her coat shone outlining her body’s curves as it flared out around her, the slinky black dress she’d chosen for the evening contrasting beautifully. Frowning she sniffed and put a hand to her nose and as the butler took her coat she checked her heels for anything she may have stepped in. Dutifully she followed the butler into a massive library.

“Ah, may I introduce you.” The butler said pushing the Colonel out of the road with the door and Mrs White frowned at the French maid. “Mrs White this is Yvette, the maid.” He looked at Yvette and then Mrs White “I see you know each other?” Ignoring the maid she walked over to the other man who was recovering from his clash with the door.

“Hello.” She muttered.

“Hello.” He returned and the butler left them.

 

‘Miss Scarlet’ was not having a pleasant night. She’d received an invitation from an acquaintance to go to some fancy mansion and she hadn’t had enough time to find an appropriate dress so she’d thrown on a knee-length scarlet slinky dress with matching sheer gloves and stole that was always a good last resort for formal wear. Over the top she’d chosen a chocolate brown coat with a Elizabethian collar that showed off the slightly lighter lining which accentuated her pale features. Now she was stuck in the middle of a deserted road in uncomfortable heels, a ridiculously tight dress and a broken down car that she had no idea how to fix. Oh and her cell phone decided to go flat.

In the distance she saw headlights so she arranged herself against the car and waited for the driver to get closer and one leg popped up as she peered into the mechanics of her car. Eventually the car slowed to pass her, breaking sharply and reversed so the driver could look at her properly.

“Want a lift?” The man asked her around a pipe, surprised to find a damsel in distress along this deserted stretch of road.

“Yes please.” She gushed; a bit surprised to find a man who still wore tweed and a bow tie, perhaps he was a Doctor Who fan. Rushing to get in his car she double checked she still had her purse. “Thanks, I’m late for a dinner party.”

“Me too, where are you going?” He asked and she fished out her invitation.

“Let’s see. Hill House off route 41.”

“Wait a minute, let me look at that.” The man removed his pipe from his mouth and snatched the letter out of her hands “That’s where I’m going, I got a letter like this.” They shared an uneasy look and drove in silence.

 

“And this is Mrs Peacock” an anxious looking woman in an absolutely gorgeous dress surveyed the others in the room as the other two greeted her. Her dress was royal blue velvet going from her neck to her feet and clinging to every curve, her dark skin only making it more striking. Lighter blue silk fanning out behind her indicated a slight trail on the dress.

“Yvette would you make sure dinner will be ready when the other guests arrive?”

“Oui monsieur.” She handed Mrs Peacock a flute of champagne and left, Mrs Peacock glanced at the French maid in horror, clearly wondering how any woman could wear such revealing clothes.  The bell rang again and as the butler excused himself she turned to peruse the books showing the other guests a magnificent peacock tail starting at her lower back.

 

“Is this the right address to meet Mr Boddy?” A thin man in a dark trench coat asked nervously of the butler once he opened the door.

“Ah you must me Mr Green.” The butler stepped out of the house to look at the whining dogs. “Sit!” He ordered sternly and the dogs obeyed. Shawn waved him inside, taking his hat and coat to the coat room as Mr Green smoothed his emerald green suit and checked his shoes. The butler smiled slightly at the clothing choices of all the guests so far.

 

In the car Miss Scarlet studied the map intently as Professor Plum groused quietly at the rain that was making driving very difficult and only getting heavier.

“It should be off there.” She decided and he slowed the car to turn gently up the hill.

“That must be it.” He said a few seconds later, half expecting dramatic music to blare from hidden speakers as lightening lit up the creepy old house on the hill.

“Why has the car stopped?” She asked staring at the house which was probably the inspiration for some of Edgar Allen Poe’s works, old inhabitants probably being creepier than any character he could imagine.

“It’s frightened.” He offered and started the car moving again.

Professor Plum got out of the car first, umbrella held in the vain hope it might keep them dry, or at least less soaked. Quickly he ran around to Miss Scarlet’s side and helped her out, wrapping an arm around her waist they ran to the porch actually managing to stay more dry than not.

“What a god forsaken place.” He decided as she checked her hair and coat and his hand brushed her bum on the way off her waist. She glared at him, angry tirade prevented by  the door being opened at that moment.

“Professor Plum and Miss Scarlett, I didn’t realise you were acquainted.” Shawn greeted in surprise.

“We weren’t.” She glared at him one last time before following the butler inside.

 

“May I present Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet” Mrs White looked up from a book as they entered. Yvette came over and offered them flutes of champagne which they accepted, the Professor clinking their glasses together. His plum suit was old fashioned with a waistcoat and bow tie but he did look rather intelligent in it. “Of course since you’ve each been addressed by a pseudonym you will realise that nobody here is being adressed by their real name” Shawn reminded as he smiled at the perfect colour sense of every guest. Briefly everyone looked around warily, wondering who each person was and what they were all doing here. 

As the cook banged the gong Mr Green to jump and spilled his drink on Mrs Peacock’s arm.

“Ah, Dinner.” The butler announced dourly, turning to leave.

“I’m so sorry. I’m a little accident prone.” He pulled out a handkerchief and dried her arm awkwardly in the face of her disapproval.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, constructive critism is always welcome, especially when I experiment with style.


	3. Dinner is Served

“You’ll find your names beside your places, please be seated.” The butler instructed when they had all followed him across the hall to the dining room. He took Miss Scarlett’s glass, placing it before her spot as Colonel Mustard pulled her chair out for her and Professor Plum pushed it in as she sat. The others milled around looking for their seats.

“Is this seat for you then?” The Colonel asked Shawn gesturing at the empty chair at the head of the table.

“Oh no sir, I’m merely a humble butler.” He offered with a small smile.

“What exactly is it you do?”

“I butle sir.”

“Which means what?”

“The butler is head of the kitchen and dining room, I keep everything tidy, that’s all.” The butler offered, moving to pull Mrs Peacock’s chair out politely.

“Well, what’s this all about then Wadsworth? This little party.”  She asked as she sat gently.

“Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die.”

“Die?” Professor Plum asked anxiously sitting beside Mrs Peacock.

“Merely quoting sir, from Alfred Lord Tennyson.” The butler soothed.

“I prefer Kipling myself.” The Colonel stated. “The female of the species is more deadly than the male.” Everyone looked at him awkwardly. “You like Kipling, Miss Scarlet?” He asked offering her a tray of hor d'oeuvres.

“Sure I’ll eat anything.” She took one of them apparently ignoring the Colonel’s question.

“Shark fin soup madam.” The maid announced exiting the kitchen with a tray. She began placing bowls in front of the guests as the butler poured drinks.

“So is this for our host?” The Colonel asked pointing at the seat at the head of the table.

“No sir, that’s for the seventh guest Mr Boddy.”

“I thought Mr Boddy was our host.” Mrs White inquired of Wadsworth and every voice agreements. “So who is our host?” She asked and the butler merely smiled and chuckled darkly.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the other guest?” Mrs Peacock asked when Professor Plum moved his napkin to his lap and picked up a soup spoon.

“I vill keep somzing warm for ‘im.” The maid assured.

“What’d you have in mind dear?” Mrs Scarlet asked with a raised eyebrow as she accidentally got a face full of Yvette’s cleavage. Mr Plum slurped slightly taking the first mouthful of soup, Mrs White following his lead hesitantly as the two servers left. Everyone awkwardly sipped at their soup, trying not to give the impression of staring at any one person.

“Well someone’s got to break the ice and it might as well be me, I mean I’m used to being the hostess, it’s part of my husband’s work and it’s always difficult when a group of new friends meet together for the first time to get acquainted.” Mrs Peacock said in one long run-on sentence, pausing for less than a second to breathe before continuing. “So I’m perfectly prepared to start the ball rolling and I mean I have absolutely no idea what we’re doing here or what I’m doing here or what this place is all about but I am determined to enjoy myself, I’m very intrigued and oh my this soup’s delicious isn’t it?” The other guests stared, spoons midway between plate and jaws now gaping slightly in the face of such forced cheer and verbose rambling.

“You say you are used to being a hostess as part of your husband’s work?” Mrs White recovered first, soon followed by the Professor.

“Oh yes, it’s an integral part of your life when you’re the wife of-” She paused, apparently having thought about what she was saying. “-oh but then I forgot, we’re not meant to say who we really are though heavens to Betsy I don’t know why.”

“Don’t you.” The Colonel asked, peeved that no one knew what was going on.

“I know who you are.” Mr Green announced looking up from his soup with a thin lipped smile.

“Do you want to tell us?” Miss Scarlet asked.

“How do you know who I am?” Peacock demanded dropping her spoon and nervously fiddling with her dress.

“I work in the CBI, I see you at fundraisers.” Mr Green smiled.

“CBI fundraisers? So you’re a politician’s wife?” Professor Plum inquired.

“Yes, uh, yes I, I, I am.” She recovered from her shock.

“Well come on then, who’s your husband?” Colonel pushed, Mrs Peacock was saved from answering as the butler pushed the door open. Silence fell once more as he collected bowls.

“So what does your husband do?” She asked of Mrs White instead.

“Nothing!” She said sharply “Well he just lies around on his back all day.” She declared somewhat defensively.

“Sounds like hard work.” Miss Scarlet smiled. Yvette opened the roller window between dining room and kitchen as a crash of thunder and lightning caused Mr Green to jump, knocking his spoon into Miss Scarlet’s lap.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m a bit accident prone.” He explained dabbing up the mess with his napkin.

“Uh-oh. Watch it.” She warns when he dabs at her upper thigh and he meekly backs off.

“Excuse moi.” Yvette said placing a dish before Mrs Peacock.

“Mmm, this is one of my favourite recipes.” Mrs Peacock announced heartily digging in as the last guest was served.

“I know madam.” Shawn smiled and left the room.

“So what do you do in the CBI Mr Green?” She asked getting no reply. “Come on, what do you do?” She pressed when he didn’t answer. “How are we to get acquainted if we don’t say anything about ourselves?”

“Perhaps he doesn’t want to get acquainted with you.” Miss Scarlet said peevishly.

“Well I’m sure I don’t know but if I wasn’t finding things to keep the conversation going then we’d all be sitting here in an embarrassed silence.” She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin.

“Are you afraid of silence Mrs Peacock?” Professor Plum asked, sitting straighter in his chair.

“Yes! What! No! Why!?” She spluttered much to Miss Scarlet’s amusement.

“Oh, it just seems to me that you seem to suffer from what we call pressure of speech.” The Professor continued.

“We? Who’s we? Are you a shrink?” Miss Scarlet demanded.

“That’s one unflattering term I suppose.” Plum replied.

“Are you a doctor?” Mrs White inquired.

“I am but I don’t practice.”

“Practice makes perfect. Ha. I think most men need a little practice, don’t you, Mrs Peacock?”  Miss Scarlet shot a look at the woman who shrugged uncomfortably and focused on her meal.

“So what do you do, Professor?”  Mrs White asked again.

“I work as a consultant, I also teach.”

“Well, what is your area of special concern?” Mrs Peacock rejoined the conversation.

“The families of law enforcement.” He replied easily, turning to address Colonel Mustard. “What about you, Colonel? Are you a real colonel?”

“I am sir.” He replied seriously.

“You’re not going to mention that you also live in California, Santa Monica?” Miss Scarlet looked at him and the Colonel shifted awkwardly in his chair.

“How did you know that? Have we met before?” He asked studying her trying to recall a memory.

“I’ve certainly seen you before, although you may not have seen me.” She replied mysteriously, noting the butler shifted slightly, showing he was listening intently to the conversation. She wondered briefly if he would stop them if they began to reveal too much.

“So, Miss Scarlet, does this mean that you live nearby too?” Mr Green confirmed.

“Sure do.” She chirped.

“Does anyone here not live in Los Angeles?” Mrs Peacock asked and nobody denied it. Colonel Mustard stood up abruptly and turned angrily towards the butler.

“Wadsworth, where’s our host and why have we been brought here?” He demanded, sentence punctuated by the ringing of the doorbell. Wadsworth glided out of the room as Mustard sat down sheepishly regaining his composure. The door opened and closed and every ear in the house turned to listen in on the tense conversation in the hall.

“Ah! Good evening. You are eagerly awaited.” Wadsworth greeted.

“You lockin’ me in?” A second man demanded angrily. “I’ll take the key.”

“Over my dead body, sir.” ‘Wadsworth’ retorted, a little bit intimidated. “May I take your bag?”

“No. I’ll leave it here ‘till I need it.”

“It contains evidence, I presume?”

“Surprises, my friend. That’s what it contains, surprises.” Footsteps lead towards the dining room where the other guests tensed, not wanting to meet the man behind the deep and threatening voice. One person in particular was tense because of the threat to ‘Wadsworth’ who was, though he volunteered for this, was their responsibility.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr Boddy.” Wadsworth walked into the room, standing to the side so Mr Boddy could enter. The undercover cop relaxed slightly, chances of disaster were less when they were all together.

“What are they all doin’ here?” He demanded, sneering at them. He looked as imposing as he sounded, black suit with the top button undone and black hair slicked back.

“Eating dinner. Do sit down, Mr. Body.” Wadsworth suggested, pulling his chair out for him. Yvette appeared with a bowl of soup for him.

“Nah, you can take that away, honey.” Mr Boddy leered at Yvette’s chest and everyone exchanged tense looks as Yvette backed up, keeping an eye on the creepy man. Mrs Peacock hit the table in frustration.

“Look. I demand to know what’s going on. Now why have we all been dragged up to this horrible place?” She demanded angrily.

“Well. I believe we all received a letter.” Wadsworth replied removing a white sheet of paper from an inside pocket of his jacket. “My letter says’ ‘It will be to your advantage to be present on this date because a Mr Boddy will bring to an end a certain long-standing confidential and painful financial liability.’ It is signed, ‘a friend.’” He read.

“I received a similar letter.” Mr Green said and the Colonel pulled out a letter as everyone else agreed.

“I also received a letter.” Mr Boddy intoned as Yvette returned with a plate. “No thanks, Yvette. I just ate.” He locked up at her.

“Now how did you know her name?” Mr Green asked.

“We know each other.” His hand went up her skirt and played with the stiff fabric holding it out. “Don’t we dear?” Yvette jumped away skittishly, making it painfully clear that it was not her idea to wear the French costume. Mrs Peacock crossed her arms protectively over her body.

“Forgive my curiosity Mr Boddy, but did your letter say the same thing?” He asked, drawing the man’s attention from Yvette helpfully, an act that looked extremely practiced.

 “No.” Mr Boddy said simply.

“I see.” Wadsworth trailed off and looked down the table at the other guests. “Can I interest any of you in fruit or dessert?” The guests looked around avoiding eye contact with each other awkwardly “In that case, may I suggest we adjourn to the study for coffee and brandy, at which point I believe our unknown host will reveal his intentions.”


	4. What's His Secret?

The study proved to be a much more comfortable room with several lounges arranged in a roughly circular manner with a large wooden desk in one corner. Two large paintings hung on either side of the room, complimenting the dark wooden furniture. The strangest thing imaginable was the laptop sitting on the desk which looked painfully anachronistic in the room from at least half a century ago.

“Well there’s no one here.” Mr Green points out the obvious as everyone moved to take seats.

“Pease help yourselves to brandy or wine and be seated.” Wadsworth smiled and walked over to the desk. On the keyboard of the laptop was a post-it note “ _To Wadsworth, please turn on after dinner”_ it read. As he waited for the machine to boot up Wadsworth watched the guests arrange themselves on the chairs. Peacock took a seat next to Colonel Mustard while Mrs White, Mr Green and Mr Boddy took individual chairs.

“Mind if I smoke?” Miss Scarlet asked and Mrs Peacock objected so she put her cigarettes away sadly.  Wadsworth scrolled through the file on the laptop as the silence became oppressive.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m instructed to explain to you what you all have in common with each other.” He declared, pausing to look at Mr Boddy “Unless you would care to do the honours, Mr. Body?”

“Why me? They know who I am?” He asked from his place outside of the rough circle of chairs near the door.

“I don’t think so, you’ve never identified yourself to them, I believe.” Wadsworth tilted his head hoping for a confession so he could call it a night. But instead Mr Boddy rose angrily to his feet.

“It’s a hoax! I suggest we all leave.” Mr Boddy walked out of the door, Wadsworth running around the desk to pursue him.

“I’m sorry, sir, you cannot leave this house!” his voice grew louder, imploring Mr Boddy to listen.

“No? Who’s gonna stop me?” He asked with a chuckle as he ran to the front doors, the other guests following Wadsworth out of the study.

“There’s no way out.” Wadsworth explains as Mr Boddy rattled the front doors. “All the windows have bars, all the doors are locked.”

“This is an outrage! You can’t hold us prisoner!”  Mr Boddy yelled, prompting the other guests to raise their voices in angry agreement. Wadsworth spun to face them; his hands raised palms out to calm them down.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please!” he shouted over them “Please return to the study. Everything will be explained.” They glared at him but complied, the undercover leading as he waved them into the room Mr Boddy ran behind him. “You too. Mr Boddy.” Wadsworth called after him. “Other way!” he yelled jogging after Mr Boddy and into the conservatory. Mr Boddy grabbed a pot and ran to the fourth wall which was glass and lead outside into the storm. “You can’t get out that way.” Wadsworth informed him from the doorway.

“Why not? It’s only glass!” Mr Boddy prepared to throw the pot when two vicious Dobermans jumped on the glass, snarling and barking at Mr Boddy who dropped the pot.  Head hanging in resignation he followed Wadsworth back to the study where Yvette was serving drinks to the other guests, most of whom were standing in agitation. Wadsworth went straight to the desk and looked at the laptop one last time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you all have one thing in common.” Wadsworth said quickly “You’re all being blackmailed.” Everyone shifted anxiously, paranoid that everyone was looking at them “For some considerable time, all of you have been paying what you can afford and, in some cases, more than you can afford to someone who threatens to expose you.”  They began to look at each other subtly, wondering what dark secrets they held. “And none of you know who’s blackmailing you, do you?” He finished.

“Oh, please!” Mrs Peacock’s voice had risen with a hysterical edge as almost cut Wadsworth off “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous.” She smoothed the neck of her dress “I mean nobody could blackmail me. My life is an open book; I’ve never done anything wrong.” She cried before visibly forcing herself to calm down.

“Anybody else wish to deny it?” The other guests looked at each other, playing a strange game, ready to jump up and deny it before anyone else could but not willing to do so until someone else moved. Momentarily Shawn admired the other detective undercover here for blending in perfectly.

“Very well.” He continued. “As everyone here is in the same boat, there’s no harm in my revealing some details. And my instructions are to do so. Thank you, Yvette.” He dismissed the maid who walked out, Mr Boddy’s leering eyes following her as the guests braced themselves.

“Don’t you think you might spare us this humiliation?” Mrs White asked tremulously and for a second Wadsworth felt bad as the others nodded and shifted.

“I’m sorry.” He apologised, reminding himself of what they’d done as he walked over to Professor Plum, leaning against the mantle. Time for a reveal. “Professor Plum,” the Professor fiddled with his waist coat fretfully, not wanting to be the first but knowing that speaking would only make it worse “you were once a professor of psychiatry, specializing in helping wives and children of officers cope with the threat to their loved ones.”

“Yes but now I teach.”

“So your work has barely changed, but you don’t practice anymore.” Shawn returned to his desk, resting on the edge and addressing the crowd again. “His licence to practice has been lifted, correct?” The Professor’s silence was confirmation enough.

“Why?” Miss Scarlet asked walking to stand beside him, overpowering him with her perfume which was sharp and yet still appealing “What did he do?”

“You know what doctors aren’t allowed to do with their patients?” He asked leaning in as though it were a grand secret.

“Yeah?”

“Well, he did, with a minor.” Miss Scarlet laughed slightly.

“Oh, how disgusting.” Mrs Peacock sneered at the Professor as though he had personally offended her, her dainty nose wrinkled and the Professor bowed his head under the force of her disapproval. The rest of the guests merely frowned, knowing that they were in no place to judge.

“Are you making moral judgements, Mrs Peacock?” Shawn demanded angrily, sure it was bad but Mrs Peacock didn’t know the full story, nor was she such a stellar citizen herself. He swooped down and sat on the couch beside her, all eyes following. “How, then, do you justify bribes to keep your husband in his position?”

“My husband is a respected man, there’s nothing wrong with that!” She defended angrily.

“Not if he’s respected for his work, perhaps. But if the respect is gained by doing quasi-legal favours often in a stall of the men’s room, how would you describe that respect?” Miss Scarlet slunk behind the couch and leant over to offer her opinion.

“I’d say it stinks.”

“Well, how would you know? When were you in that men’s room?” Mrs Peacock asked bitterly.

“So it’s true!” Professor Plum declared, revealing in his detective moment.

“No! It’s a vicious lie!” She cried standing up and sitting down again, almost hitting Shawn in the face with her purse.

“I’m sure we’re all glad to hear that.” Shawn assured dryly. “But you’ve been paying blackmail for over three years now to keep that story out of the papers.” She paced over to the drinks tabled and poured herself a glass.

“Well, I am willing to believe you.” Mrs White assured placing a hand over her chest “I too am being blackmailed for something I didn’t do.” She declared.

“Me too.” Mr Green and Colonel Mustard agreed from their couch.

“Not me.” Miss Scarlet declared.

“You’re not being blackmailed?” Shawn asked alarmed, this wasn’t meant to happen.

“Oh I’m being blackmailed all right. But I did what I’m being blackmailed for.” She smirked as she prowled back to the desk and sat on it.

“What did you do?” The Professor demanded curiously. Misery does so love company.

“Well, to be perfectly frank, I run a specialized hotel and a telephone service which provides gentlemen with the company of a young lady for a short while.” She crossed her legs and aimed the last two words at the Professor who had perked up in interest.

“Oh yeah? What’s the phone number?” He asked pulling out a pen and notepad, walking over to her as she rolled her eyes at the over-eager response.

“So how did you know Colonel Mustard lives in Los Angeles? Is he one of your clients?” Mr Green asked.

“Certainly not!” Mustard yelled incredulously standing up.

“I was asking Miss Scarlet.” Mr Green replied like a peeved lawyer as the Colonel strode over to Miss Scarlet and Professor Plum.

“Well, you tell him it’s not true!” He ordered her.

“It’s not true.” She repeated obediently.

“Is that true?” Professor Plum asked.

“No, it’s not true.” She smiled as Wadsworth came over to stand by them.

“Ha-hah!” Mr Green cheered, rising from his seat. “So it is true!”

“A double negative!” Shawn smiled, at least the guests were amusing.

“Double negative?” Colonel Mustard asked, lowering his voice “You mean you have photographs?” he whispered to Miss Scarlet.

“That sounds like a confession to me. In fact, the double negative has led to proof positive. I’m afraid you gave yourself away!” Shawn said quickly before the Colonel could form a retort.

“Are you trying to make me look stupid in front of the other guests?” He yelled.

“You don’t need any help from me, sir.” He responded, remembering his role as butler and adding ‘sir’ to sound respectful.

“That’s right!” Colonel responds automatically, taking a moment to realise what he said.

“But seriously,” Professor Plum interjected suavely sitting beside Miss Scarlet “I don’t see what’s so terrible about Colonel Mustard visiting a house of ill fame.” He placed his hand on Miss Scarlet’s knee, sliding upwards until she picked it up and flung it back to him as he spoke. “Most soldiers do, don’t they?”

“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes and stood as he tried to schmooze closer. Professor Plum took it fairly well and moved to sit beside Mr Green.

“But he holds a sensitive security post in the pentagon.” Shawn informed them as the Professor shuffled past. “And, Colonel, you drive a very expensive car from someone who lives on a colonel’s pay.”

“I don’t. I came into money when I lost my mommy and daddy.” Everyone blinked as the Colonel returns to his seat, slowly processing what was said. Recovering Shawn turned and focusesd on the next person.

“Mrs White, you’ve been paying our friend the blackmailer ever since your husband died under, shall we say, mysterious circumstances.” Miss Scarlet laughed beside him; he turned his attention from Mrs White to her at the interruption.

“Why is that funny?” Mrs White asked a little miffed.

“I see.” Miss Scarlet controlled her laughter. “That’s why he was lying on his back. In his coffin.” Shawn smiled slightly and turned back to Mrs White who was denying it.

“I didn’t kill him.” She said with as much dignity as she could muster, which was a lot indeed.

“Then why are you paying the blackmailer?” Colonel Mustard asked derisively.

“I don’t want a scandal, do I?” She informed him “We had had a very humiliating public confrontation, he was deranged, lunatic.” She gestured to her own head. “He didn’t actually seem to like me very much, he had threatened to kill me in public-“ Miss Scarlet cut her off.

“Why would he want to kill you in public?” Her confusion was obvious.

“I think she meant he threatened, in public, to kill her.” Shawn clarified with an eye roll; sassy butler was a fun role, especially with these guests.

“Oh. And was that his final word on the matter?” She asked, recovering from her misunderstanding.

“Being killed is pretty final, wouldn’t you say?” Mrs White returned, voice stone cold and foreboding.

“And yet he was the one who died, not you, Mrs White, not you.” Shawn pointed out dramatically.

“What did he do for a living?” Miss Scarlet asked, stealing whatever the butler was going to say next.

“He was a scientist.” Mrs White answered, looking down sadly. “Nuclear physics.”

“What was he like?” Mrs White paused at the question, composing herself before answer in quick, clipped speech.

“He was always a rather stupidly optimistic man. I mean, I’m afraid it came as a great shock to him when he died. But he was found dead at home. His head had been cut off” she pulled a finger across her throat before pointing down. “and so had his... you know.” All the men other than Wadsworth crossed their legs simultaneously. “I had been out all evening at the movies.” She said all this in a rush.

“Do you miss him?” Miss Scarlet pressed.

“Well, it’s a matter of life after death.” Mrs White replied simply “Now that he’s dead, I have a life.”

“But he was your second husband. Your first husband also disappeared.” Shawn rejoined the conversation, pointing it in the direction he wanted it to go.

“But that was his job, he was an illusionist.” She answered as though speaking to a child.

“But he never reappeared.” Shawn pointed out equally condescending.

“He wasn’t a very good illusionist.” Mrs White shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips as though it were quite funny that her first husband had disappeared and never been seen again. Interrupting the budding argument between the two Mr Green cleared his throat and stood up.

“I have something to say.” He began formally. “I’m not going to wait for Wadsworth here to unmask me.” Mr Green removed his glasses and took a deep breath. “I work for law enforcement and I am a homosexual.” Shawn pretended to be surprised and scrolled past Mr Green’s file on the laptop as Mrs Peacock tutted in disgust. “I feel no personal shame or guilt about this. Though California has come a long way in acceptance I must keep it a secret or I will never get the promotion to Chief of Police.” He paused, looking around not knowing what to do when no one spoke. “Thank you.” He muttered, putting his glasses back on and sitting down, a little hurt when Professor Plum jumped up and strode over to Mr Boddy.

“Well, that just leaves Mr Boddy.” He asked the smirking man around his pipe.

“What’s your little secret?” Miss Scarlet wriggled in anticipation of yet more juicy reveals.

“His secret?” Shawn asked as though surprised by the question. “Oh, hadn’t you guessed?” He looked at the other guests. “He’s the one who’s blackmailing you all.” A clap of thunder and a streak of lightening punctuated the biggest reveal perfectly. Mr Boddy looked extremely satisfied at the stunned moment that passed before Colonel Mustard jumped up.

“You bastard!” He cried raising his fists. Mr Boddy rose regally and stepped forward to face the angry old man. Stepping on the Colonel’s toe, Mr Boddy poked him in the eyes sending the other man falling backward.

“Getlemen.” Mr Green tried to diffuse the fist fight going on next to the lounge as Professor Plum moved to help him pull Mr Boddy off the Colonel.

“If you can’t fight fairly, don’t fight at all!” The Colonel yelled over the chaos that had erupted as Miss Scarlet checked that he was okay and prevented him from following.

“-body calls me a bastard!” Mr Boddy yelled back as Mrs White placed her hands on his face. Remaining the perfect image of elegance she brought her knee up, swiftly sending Mr Boddy crashing to the floor in pain as Mrs Peacock cheered.

“Was that necessary, Mrs White?” Mr Green asked as Shawn roared over the din.

“Wait! Wait!” Satisfied that they would hear him he continued “The police are coming.” Instantly everyone swarmed towards him, voicing complaints and reasons why they can’t, not while they were here.

“Listen!” he roared again raising his hands to quieten the babble. Speaking louder than normal but not quiet yelling he talked quickly. “Blackmail depends on secrecy. You’ve all admitted how he’s been able to blackmail you. All you have to do is tell the police, he’ll be convicted, and your troubles will be over.”

“It’s not so easy.” Mr Boddy wheezed, using an arm chair to pull himself up again as the group turned to face him. “You’ll never tell the police.”

“Then I shall.” Shawn returned triumphantly. “I have evidence in my possession, and this conversation is being tape recorded.”

“Point of order, tape recordings are not admissible evidence!” Mr Green pointed out and god, was he an agent or a lawyer? Everyone began talking together again and Shawn sighed in annoyance.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the police will be here in about” he checked his watch “forty-five minutes. Tell them the truth and Mr Boddy will be behind bars.” Shawn assured. Mr Boddy began walking out of the room and Shawn moved to stop him again. “Where are you going this time?”

“I think I can help them make up their minds. Can I just get my little bag from the hall?” Shawn nodded and they heard his shoes tap in the direction of the main doors and return a minute later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies but I suck at regular updates. As always point out mistakes and I'll fix them up ASAP. Feedback on who you think the undercover cop is and if Shawn's reputation will survive is always welcome.


	5. Gifts of Death

Mr Body set the black snakeskin case on the coffee table and opens it to reveal several black boxes, each tied shut with a purple ribbon.

“Who can guess what’s in here, eh?” He asked as everyone walked over to peer at the boxes of mystery.

“The evidence against us, no doubt.” Mrs White guessed making Mr Boddy chuckle lightly. Without replying he began handing out the boxes seemingly at random.

“We didn’t know we were meeting you tonight. Did you know you were meeting us?” Miss Scarlet asked, accepting the first box.

“Oh, yes.” He smiled continuing his job.

“What were you told precisely?” Mrs White inquired immediately as she took the third box.

“Merely that you were all meeting to discuss our little... financial arrangements. And if I did not appear, Wadsworth would be informing the police about it all. Naturally I could hardly resist putting in an appearance.” ‘Wadsworth’ flinched as his name was mentioned though no one saw, much to his relief. Mr Boddy finished handing out his mystery boxes and pushed his way to the door to better watch the scene unfold much as Shawn had been doing.

“Open them.” He ordered and smiled at the anxious looks they exchanged.

“Why not?” Miss Scarlet asked moving back to what appeared to be her favourite perch upon the desk. “I enjoy getting presets from strange men.” She pulled the ribbon off the box and opened it, gently lifting the brass candlestick inside. “A candlestick? What’s this for?” Her question prompted the others to  investigate their own packages.

Mrs White opened hers next, finding a much more ominous gift inside, a length of white rope tied into a nose rested against the satin lining. She looked at Mr Boddy a question in her eyes as Mr Green opened his box and tipping the contents into his other hand. A lead pipe clinks into his hand and he looks up in confused alarm. Colonel Mustard pulls out a heavy, old looking wrench from his. Beside him Professor Plum gingerly removes a revolver, causing the Colonel to look at him fearfully. They share a look of confusion as, across the room, Mrs Peacock lifts a dagger out of her black box, momentarily gripping it tight before looking up in shock.

“In your hands, you each have a lethal weapon.” Mr Boddy grinned happily. “If you denounce me to the police, you will also be exposed and humiliated, I’ll see to that in court.” He assured with a wink. “But if one of you kills Wadsworth now” Shawn’s eyes widened and he shook his head slightly “no one but the seven of us will ever know.” The undercover cop tensed wondering how to save Shawn.

“He has the key to the front door, which he said would only be opened over his dead body.” Shawn cursed himself for saying that damn line, Mr Boddy looked way too happy encouraging his death with his own words. “I suggest we take him up on that offer.” Mr Boddy walked past ‘Wadsworth’ with a grin before he closed the door and set his drink down. “The only way to avoid finding yourselves on the front pages is for one of you to kill Wadsworth.” He flicked the lights off as he put the final punch in his short monologue. “Now.”

To say muted chaos broke out is fairly accurate. In the dark everyone strained to hear what was happening.

A sneeze.

A thump.

Another thump.  
A slight hiss of pain.

A gunshot.  
Shattering sound of ceramics.

A scream.

The light came back on; Mrs Peacock who had turned them on dropped her knife with a gasp at the sight of Mr Boddy lying prone on the floor, apparently dead.

“It’s not Wadsworth!” Colonel Mustard pointed out the obvious as muttering broke out and everyone moved to crowd around Mr Boddy.

“Stand back! Give him air!” Professor Plum pushed the others away from the body of Mr Boddy and knelt beside him. “Let me see.” He began to check Mr Body for signs of life as everyone looked on anxiously. “He’s dead.” There was a pause where everyone decided this was a completely horrible night and they should have stayed in bed.

“Who had the gun?” Mrs White asked.

“I did.” Plum looked up at her.

“Then you shot him!” Mrs Peacock decided with all the logic of a scared civilian.

“I didn’t!” Professor Plum yelled back.

“Well, you had the gun. If you didn’t shoot him, who did?” She demanded angrily and the Professor turned the body over.

“Nobody.” He declared. “Look, there’s no gunshot wound. Somebody tried to grab the gun from me in the dark and the gun went off.” A few quests nodded that it seemed plausible and there was no way to prove that wasn’t what had happened. “Look!” He jumped up and pointed with his pipe “The bullet broke that vase on the mantel!” Everyone rushed over causing confusion but after the Colonel let the Professor go first everyone was crowding around the bullet hole.

“He’s absolutely right.” The Colonel validated causing the Professor to lean against the wall and sigh. “Look, there’s a bullet hole here in the wall. See that?” He asked the crowd.

“How did he die?” Mr Green demanded of Professor Plum, leaning over the Colonel to be sure he was heard.

“I don’t know!” He shoved the other man away and stomped away, rifling through his pockets as he went. “I’m not a forensic expert.” Plum growled.

“Well one of us must have killed him!” Mrs White highlighted what everyone was thinking in a slightly hysterical voice as she threw her hat to the side. Mr Green threw his lead pipe on the table as though it had burned him.

“Well I didn’t do it!” Mr Green said hurriedly.

“Oh, I need a drink!” Mrs Peacock announced dramatically, spying Mr Boddy’s unfinished cognac on the table by the door, the professor looked up.

“Maybe he was poisoned!” He cried in alarm, conveniently ignoring the probability of that. Mrs Peacock who had just taken a sip dropped the glass staring at it in horror and betrayal as she started to scream. Mr Green pushed past Professor Plum with a huff of annoyance as the others flinched at the scream which sounded more like a dying animal than a human. Carefully he guided her to the nearest sofa, a flow of meaningless comfort words streaming inefficiently out of his mouth.

“Sit down Mrs Peacock, sit down.” She kept screaming, dear god would she stop? Careful not to be too harsh he slapped her cheek, just hard enough to get her attention off the drink and possible poison.

“I” he hesitated looking at the three horrified guests behind him “I had to stop her screaming...” He tried to explain as Colonel Mustard came over to grab him by the lapels of his jacket.

“Was the brandy poisoned?” He demanded, pushing the thinner man out of the road and charging to the dropped glass, Mrs White hot on his heels.

“I don’t know.”  He answered breathlessly as he was shoved to the side again. He figured the chances of it were low, but it wasn’t the worst theory he’d heard tonight and that was really saying something bad. Miss Scarlet and Professor Plum joined the other two, standing over them as they examined the glass miserably.

“Looks like we’ll never know.” Miss Scarlet announced as the Colonel handed her the glass. She held it upside down to stress the lack of cognac spilling out of it.

“Unless” Mr Green quavered “Unless she dies, too.” He gestured at Mrs Peacock who was holding her cheek and looking very melodramatic. The four rushed over and bent over the sofa arm and back to watch the poor woman closely, her eyes darting from one face to the next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating but a lack of response has allowed my attention to be swayed to other projects. Maybe I'll finish this as part of my nano rebelling, maybe not. Should I bother?

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning; even I don't know how I'm going to end this yet. It started as a I'm-bored exercise from a prompt on Psychfic and turned into something I actually want to finish. All mistakes are all mine, point them out and I'll fix them up if you wish.


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